Napowrimo Day 6

Today's prompt was to write a poem about food, or inspired by food, or about our relationship with food. Mine is closest to the latter.

"Anorexic?"
They questioned.
"Bulimic."
They reasoned.
"Gumby."
They jeered.
I was thin, a little gangly.
Girls can be mean in high school.
I was awkward,
but man could I eat.
I ate when I was bored, sad, mad, glad,
And of course when I was hungry.
I ate four meals a day, plus snacks.
But I never purged in any way,
My body was just built that way.
I could eat, eat, eat
And not gain an ounce for weeks.
Medical professionals seemed unconcerned.
But  girls always made comments about my size
In response to which, my cheeks burned
And I was anorexic, they more often than not implied.
Even now "You're so TINY."
They say.
But now, while I'm still built that way,
I barely eat one meal a day.
Having been accused of an eating disorder for so long,
I seem to have developed one along the way.
I still like food I do.
And I still like to eat, eat, eat.
But I've gotten so good at procrastinating
That I even wait to put food on my plate.
Most days I get one good meal and a few snacks
I love to cook
But my quantity of meals per day seems to top out at two, max.
I usually blame it on lack of time
But there is part of me deep inside that says,
"I'm thin and I'd prefer to keep it that way."


I don't really talk about this much . . . Suffice it to say, I like food, but my relationship with it is not the healthiest. In high school I definitely didn't have an eating disorder, but now? I'm not sure. I really wish people wouldn't comment on my size or weight, but it is what it is. I guess.

Sharon